Mr. Schmaltz, I presume?

As Jim announced below, he has graciously (and courageously!) invited me to become a contributor to Memory Almost Full. I'm thrilled to be a part of it! I thought it might be appropriate to start with the unlikely story of how a guy from the Great White North and a Missouri boy came to form an enduring friendship.

It was Sept. 1997 when I walked into my local video game emporium, eager to snatch up a copy of NHL 98 for the Sega Genesis. This was nothing short of an annual ritual, and I never missed a release date. But, alas, on this particular day I was informed that NHL 98 would not be available for the Genesis, only the Sony Playstation. Naturally, this prompted the question… "So, how much is a Sony Playstation?" The answer was entirely irrelevant, as I knew then and there that I'd be walking out of the store with a Playstation and copy of NHL 98 under my arm. Little did I know how that seemigly insignificant turn of events would ultimately result in meeting Jim Schmaltz of St. Louis, MO.

Although a long time video gamer, outside of the NHL series and a little Road Rash. gaming wasn't a real obsession for me at the time (though that was about to change in a big way). Instead, I was totally immersed in guitar playing and, more specifically, with plans to organize a Guitar Show in early '98. It was in preparation for that event that I finally found my way onto the internet. Meanwhile, plans for the Guitar Show fizzled and, captivated by the power of the Playstation, my game collection rapidly grew.

I began hanging around internet newsgroups (remember those?) dedicated to discussing Playstation games, and gravitated to a small group of like-minded members, including a fellow who went by the name of Jim S. I was mostly into sports and racing games (still am), and lemme tell you, that dude knew his sports, especially football. His knowledge of sports and gaming bordered on freakish. And he could flat out write.

Ever hungry for game reviews, I scoured the net and kept running across reviews by Jim S. that had been posted to the newsgroup and archived elsewhere. Somewhat inspired, I eventually began posting my own "First Impressions" mini-reviews, usually within a day or two of a new game release. Several months later, I received an unsolicited email from a site called Game Junkie saying that they had read and enjoyed one of my reviews, and asking if I would be interested in writing for them in exchange for review copies of the games. Pinch me! I couldn't say yes quick enough.

And so began my sideline career as video game reviewer. Game Junkie was happy with my work, and I was more than happy with the supply of free games. As the summer of '98 wore on, I started to lobby Game Junkie for the right to review an upcoming football game release. Oddly, they never acknowledged my repeated requests. Then one day I logged on to the site, and there it was… A Review by Jim S. I should have known. Pissed as I was at Game Junkie, I immediately shot Jim an e-mail to say "Hey, great review! Looks like we're working together now."

Game Junkie folded not long after, and Jim began writing for Sports Gaming Network where he recommended me to the editor. Meanwhile, we had begun to correspond on a regular basis via e-mail, constantly discovering shockingly common interests in gaming, sports, movies and music. I mean, who else has even heard of the BoDeans, let alone seen them live multiple times? Yep, that would be my buddy. And me.

Our e-conversations became longer and more involved - truly epic in length and scope (like this blog!). By then it had become about more than just hobbies, it was about life and all it entails.
Eventually, we decided it would be cool to connect via phone (I swear this sounds just like internet dating), and it was then that I finally learned what the S. stood for.

I suggested that Jim consider coming up to Canada for a visit. He was naturally a little apprehensive at first. For all he knew I might have been nothing more than a really friendly Canuckistani serial killer. But, in the end, he rolled the dice and booked a flight - the equivalent of an international blind date with a (happily married, just so you know) video game geek. Ironically, this turned out to be a pattern of behaviour that would be repeated a few years later when Jim met his future wife Barb for the first time. But that's a story for another blog that he should author.

It was Sept. 10, 1999 when Jim stepped off the plane and onto Canadian soil for the first time. He was easy to spot decked out in the maize and blue of Michigan. Decidedly and understandably nervous (a trait I haven't witnessed since) he asked what that big body of water was that he had just flown over. Uh, that would be Lake Ontario, Jim. He may know more about Jaws than anyone else on the planet, but he can't tell a lake from an ocean.

It didn't take him long to loosen up though, a beer or two I'd say. The Sega Dreamcast, first of the next-gen gaming consoles to follow the Playstation, had been released the previous day. Unbeknownst to Jim, I had one at home ready to be unboxed when we arrived. I'll never forget his reaction when I revealed the box. "You Dawg!", he exclaimed in that quasi drawl of his. When he laid eyes on NFL 2K1 for the first time, well, let's just say I think it was a near sexual experience for him. I'll never forget that either. It frightened me.

A couple of days later, we visited a local watering hole and, against all odds, were able to watch the Rams season opener against the Baltimore Ravens, two of the worst teams in all of football the previous season. The Rams won that game and, propelled by the arm of former grocery bagger Kurt Warner, went on to win the Super Bowl that season. From that moment on I think Jim viewed Canada as a kind of good charm, a notion reinforced by the Cardinals 2006 World Series win following our visit to St. Louis in Sept. of that year.

Anyway, Jim's initial visit was only 4-5 days and passed all to quickly for both of us. We vowed never to get together for less than a week again, and we've kept that promise. He returned in the summer of 2002 and developed a fondness for Molson Smooth Dry (which he affectionately referred to as Smoothies) and poutine (french fries with cheese curd and gravy, for the uninitated), openly musing about the business potential of opening a 'chip' wagon in St. Louis. He came back the following summer for more but, to date, hasn't attempted to market poutine in the 314.

I finally made my first trip to St, Louis, a fine city populated by even finer people, in the fall of 2002. Jim proved to be an even better host than guest. So memorable was that trip (on many levels), that I returned in 2003, 2004, 2006 and 2009, the latter two visits with my wife, Joyce. For those of you who have never met Jim's family and friends, know this... They are the warmest, friendliest, most accommodating people you will ever meet. Truly wonderful folks who make you feel like family. In fact, Jim has remarked on several ocassions that we're more like brothers than friends. Nothing could be closer to the truth.

It's almost overwhelming to reflect on how much Jim and I have shared with each other over the years. Our paths have followed strikingly similar trajectories through the crushing sadness of divorce, follies of online dating (Jim's war stories were a source of endless entertainment for me) and, ultimately, happiness in marriage and life. All the while we've leaned on one another during the tough stretches, and had copious amounts of fun the rest of the time.

Jim, I promise not to prattle on like this in a blog ever again. This is a story that's often asked about, and I thought it was well worth documenting. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. My gift to you. Brother.